Feeling like I'd turned a corner yesterday, I went out to lunch with Jody and ate the hell out of a chimichanga, a deep fried monstrosity the likes of which I have not allowed myself since high school.
In my excitement to eat, to want to eat, I completely forgot about the whole low residue rule of Oscardom. God, I'm such an asshole.
And so I go...
3 years ago
2 comments:
In retrospect, you should have eaten the chimichanga just the same, but you ought to have had a little "move nice and slow" chat with the fried beast before putting it down. Care to take a shot at how that chat would have gone down?...
I imagine it would have gone something like this:
Me: Listen, Chimi, I bought you, so I'm the boss of you, capiche?
Chimi: You are *so* not the boss of me.
Me: Yeah, I am.
Chimi: Chuh! No you're NOT.
Me: Am SO.
Chimi: ARE NOT.
[time passes]
Me: Am not. :::frowny face:::
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